Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovenia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Deakin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Monks,
The Smoke,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Fluxion,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Ultra Naté,
Loose Ends,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donny Hathaway,
The Pop Group,
Matthew Halsall,
Easy Going,
Henry Cow,
Sister Nancy,
The Grass Roots,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
AZ,
Glambeats Corp.,
Excepter,
Robert Hood,
Janne Schatter,
Lightning Bolt,
Simply Red,
The Index,
The J.B.'s,
Duran Duran,
Joe Finger,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Niagra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crime,
Groovy Waters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mr. Review,
Agent Orange,
Cymande,
Second Layer,
Eurythmics,
Warsaw,
Icehouse,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Invisible,
Ohio Players,
Monolake,
Khruangbin,
Max Romeo,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.